


Stories by the Fire

by cntrl15



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, only slash if you really squint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 21:31:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11745582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cntrl15/pseuds/cntrl15
Summary: All of them know the way it ends. The same way it always has, the same way it always will.





	Stories by the Fire

In the throne room of Hyrule Castle there is a hearth, most fitting of its high and singular appointment. 

Sculpted of the finest marbles hewn from lands far across the Great Sea, the graceful forms and figures of its brilliant mantle tower grandly over even the tallest of men, playing out the old stories by flickering light. So vast is its surface that the serving ladies tasked with it's preservation have taken to griping among themselves as they dust and mop and wipe it down. They say that whatever ancient queen had it installed must have had more coin than sense, that only a great fool could have thought such a thing of any use. The latter point is a truth. For all its vastness the great hall dwarfs it still; monumental stone below and vaulted chasm high above swallowing any breath of warmth or life.

Thus the room's sole occupant tonight, hunched as best he can on a small, rough wood stool close to the fire, looking on from afar as the high backed throne of Hyrule's thousand kings, queens, and despots presides empty over the land. A truly massive boar bristle cloak draped over his frame covers him to the floor. From its depths a right hand that reaches out to cradle a thick goblet of warm strong wine, a narrow sliver of olive brow, a wedge of hard set jaw. A rough face, sculpted with broad tools and heavy blows. A pair of glimmering black eyes track the wine as that singular hand swirls it round and round, a maelstrom . They mark no change at all as the fire crackles to and fro, nor as the great ivory portal at the foot of the room groans open and thuds shut. Only as footsteps come echoing into the modest realm of firelight does Ganon, King of Thieves, turn and rumble into the cool dark beyond.

"Come Link, come and sit with me a while."

With a gentle and grateful smile the Hero of Time shrugs off his pack and sword and seats himself beneath the mantle. Here he can rest his back against the foot of a great column and pass a moment gazing up at the flawless figures high above, as they march and dance into the burning flames. 


End file.
